The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1887-06-30
THE DREAM OF THE MINSTREL



The minstrel all weary of life's gayest hours
Had lOng'd, midst the splendOr of Cities to dwell
Once again 'mOngst his sylvan valleys and bowers,
And breathe his wild notes over streamlet and dell
His thoughts were too free DER such fiction to
ponder,
Such scenes all the hearts purest sympathy chills
Hence, he lett the bright pageants, that charmed
him no longer,
For the wild Colorado, it's prsiries and hills.
And at length when he caught the first glimpse in
the distance
OF the green myrtled SUBMITS that tower d on high
Like the beacon of hope the path of eXistence)
\ sigh filled his heart, and a tear dimm'd his eye
For within the dark shadows cast down by those
mountains
Ger groves the most verdant, and flowers mos
bright,
A city surrounded by hillocks and fountains,
In quiet seClusion lay hid from his sight.
Yet, as he drew nearer the landscapes lookd
And each sparkling stream fastened on as before,
While the whispers of hope every care was be-
As the thoughts of renewing the friendships of
But, alas what pang wrung his bosom on know
That all was forsaken, deserted and drear-
That the thistles and weeds in the pathways were
growing;
That no voices were heard, that no footsteps were
near.
Then he quicken his step till he wandered all
over
The spots once familiar, but now hushd and wild,
And he felt, as he was, a lone desolate rover
Where muEic had charm d him while beauty had
smil'd.
But he rambled at last till he came to fountain
Where fairies might sip and fair goddesses battle,
For it rush from the cold icy heart of the noun
tain,
And the tnts of the rSinbow seemed blent with its
waves
Here he fingered to mnse on the mystic transition
Ihat Faction or Fate had thrown over the land,
I'LL his eye caught the form of strange appartion
AS she trOd the bright waves with d lutte in her
hand;
And at first the soft etrains were so pleasingly
touching,
And the voice of the siren so gentle and swee,
That the tears of the transported minstrel came
gushing
On the pebbles that glstend like gems at his feet
But she changed the sweet strains till at every vi.
bratiOn
Some beautiful fowl or fierce monster came near.
And at length bold chieftain of every wild nation
All painted for battle advanced with a smear,
mus entranced by the siren they mingled their
roaring
And yelling, till nature herself seemed deterrd,
For the crash of a storm nor cataract 6 pouring
Could neither in such wild chorus be heard.
Yet the strains Just as bold were again quickly
ater'd,
For the tones of her lutte were seraphic and mild,
And the half uttered soul-touching accents she
falter'd
We're plantive and sweet as the song of a child,
But pause here ensued, yet the music went
ringing
Away, notwithstanding the siren was mute
For it seemed from the echoes all playing ana
singing,
though every knoll haG its fairy and lutte.
Once again she broke forth, but the minstrels re-
plying
Unseen from the shade of towering rock,
Made her touch on a measure so shri and defying
That savage and monster and fowl felt the shock;
Hence, they all skulked away and without hesita-
ton
The siren dash'd her sweet lutte in the stream,
And then vanish'd so much like bright eXhala-
tiop,
That the minstrel believed the whole scene was a
dream.
#Ihe Indians have tradition, that rainbow was
iliven with much force against a rock as to
SILVER it asunder, wherenpon Barton's celebrated
spring, near Austin, gushed forth from the noun
ain, and that portion of the brilliant bow having
mingled with the waters of the fountain caused the
beautiful prismatic colors reflected from the depths
If its waves
From the Austin City Gazette, August s, 1912.